Strangers
by Living on a rainbow1
Summary: Becky meets Darcy. Darcy meets Becky. Darcy insults Becky. Becky pours bright red drink down Darcy's crisp white shirt. They once shared a friendship years ago. Now, they are the extremely young, extremely wealthy young heads of the companies that their late fathers left behind. Will love flourish? Or will even their friendship wither and die under the pressure of family and duty?
1. Prologue

**Authors Note: I would just like to say that this is the first fanfiction story that I've ever written. I really don't know what I'm doing, so I would really appreciate your thoughts on my progress so far. Thank you :)**

**Disclaimer: I am only borrowing some of the amazing characters of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.**

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**Prologue**

"Hi there, stranger," she said softly as she walked up to a tall, tanned boy with piercing blue eyes. He was standing just outside of Starbucks, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Hey yourself, girlie," he smiled back to the petite brunette and gave her a hug. She barely reached halfway up his chest with her 5'3 frame.

ooOoo

They had met four years ago when his family had just moved into the huge Victorian mansion next door to her family's two storey Grecian home. The Darcy family dog, a huge German Shepherd named Pluto, had just been let out of his imprisonment in the car to stretch his legs. Instead of standing in the yard placidly like his owners expected, he had quickly bounded out of the still-open gates and out of sight. Will had quickly followed Pluto to make sure he didn't get lost or stolen or – G-d forbid! – run over.

The scene that had met him in the neighbour's yard had astonished him greatly. His great big hunk of a dog had gone and leapt at the first person in sight, knocking her over in his enthusiasm, slobbering over the poor girl's face. However what surprised him most was the fact that the girl was not screaming or kicking or cowering in fear. Instead, she was _laughing_, petting the dog and playing with it as if she had known Pluto her whole life. She slowly got up and blushed when she saw Will standing there, gawking at her. The girl was very small, and looked around eight years old with a pair of large, inquisitive eyes the colour of emeralds.

"You know, catching flies are best left to the frogs, don't you think?" she asked, her eyes crinkling slightly at the edges.

Will blinked and hurriedly snapped his jaw closed and turned an unhealthy shade of red.

"Um… uh… I-I-I was…er…" he stammered, embarrassed at being caught looking like a goldfish. His face colouring at the moment certainly did not help. Coughing slightly, he tried again.

"Hi, I'm Will. That's my dog." He said, pointing at the great lump of fur standing at almost the same height of the girl. "Um… sorry it…attacked…you. I promise it won't happen again!"

"Well, I'm Rebecca Wilson, but everyone calls me Becky. It's nice to meet you." She replied. "And don't worry about your dog. He's a big softy." At that, she gave Pluto another loving scratch behind the ears.

Becky and Will bonded over that chance meeting, and as they say, the rest was history.

ooOoo

Will smiled slightly at his best friend, the sprightly and striking fifteen-year-old. Even though there was a four year age difference between them, they complemented each other perfectly. If you asked Becky, she would say that girls matured faster than boys, but Will chalked it up to Becky being way smarter than other people her age.

"Hello? Earth to Will?"

He blinked as he was pulled back from memory lane. He racked his brain, hoping against hope that his subconscious had picked up on what she had been saying while he zoned out. After a minute of searching, he gave up and admitted that he had not been paying attention.

Becky rolled her eyes. "Okay. That's enough. What's going on?"

Will put on a look of wide-eyed innocence. "What do you mean, what's going on? Is anything wrong?"

With any other person, this answer would have been enough. However, Becky knew him too well.

"Your nostrils are flaring, you're frowning slightly _and_ you zoned out while _I _was talking, which you _never_ do. Cut the crap and spill the beans, Darcy."

_Crap_. She never used his last name unless she was angry or concerned. Avoiding her penetrating gaze, he slowly told her what he had been trying to avoid.

"You're _what_?" she almost choked on her own spit. "So you're just upping and leaving here, and that's that? And you choose to tell me on the day before you leave? What is this? A joke? You're going halfway across the world, and you didn't even bother to inform your best friend. _And_ you don't know if you'll ever come back?" Becky was now fuming with indignation. She was indescribably sad at the prospect of losing one of her closest confidantes; her anger was just a way to try to stop the tears that were forming in her eyes. England was a long way away, and she didn't know when or if she would ever see Will again.

Seeing her pensive look, Will reached over and draped his arm across her shoulders, trying to comfort her. He wasn't very happy about moving back to England either. However, his father desperately wanted to escape the house in which his mother had lived in before she had died, and to be honest, there were too many haunting memories in that house than Will was really comfortable with, too. But leaving Australia meant leaving Becky behind. Even though they could keep in touch by emailing each-other and through long-distance calls, he knew that they would eventually lose touch, and he would never see his childhood friend again.

The next day, Becky and her father, Mr Wilson dropped Mr Darcy, Will and Will's three-year-old sister, Anna off at the airport and after a teary farewell, the Darcy clan vacated Australia.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: ****Thank you to hyukkiechan1 for my first review. I'm glad you like my story :)  
I hope this chapter is up to everyone's standards. Let me know of your opinions for this story so far :)**

**Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing some of Jane Austen's amazing characters from Pride and Prejudice**

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**Chapter 1 – Five Years Later (Now)**

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, the Class of 2012!"

Cheers erupted all around the room as she made the closing statement of the valedictory speech. She was overjoyed at finally graduating from University, but she could not help but feel a pang of sadness that her father was not there to witness one of the most important days of her life. Even though her sister, Jane, was the only one of her remaining family who had come to witness her graduation, she did not feel any loss at their no-show. In fact, she was glad that they were not there. Her mother and twin younger sisters, Kate and Lisa, had _chosen_ not to show up. However her father _could not_ come. No, he had not _chosen _to abandon her. He had been taken from this world in the cruellest of misfortunes four years ago.

ooOoo

**Four years ago**

_The roads were slippery with rain that day. They should not have been out in that storm. The wind was howling. The relentless curtain of rain lashed at the windows, reducing the visibility on the road to barely a meter._

_Henry Wilson had wanted treat his daughter to a nice dinner to celebrate her gaining a scholarship to one of the most prestigious Universities in the country. Not that she needed a scholarship, with all the money that he made from his very successful business. However, Becky refused to rely on her parent's money to get her places. She wanted to be known to the world for her own achievements, and not for being _Henry Wilson,_ Real-estate tycoon's daughter_._ Luckily, her genius rivalled her stubbornness, so her dream of being independent was not unachievable. To reward her for her achievement, he insisted on taking her to one of the most obscenely overpriced restaurants in the city._

_Unfortunately for Mr Wilson, he had been caught by surprise by the sudden outbreak of the storm that was supposed to have been setting in early the next morning. However, it was too late to go back home, as they were already more than half way there. Another ten minutes' drive would take them to the warmth and elegance of the restaurant, _Zest_. However, the father and daughter never reached their destination._

_It happened so quickly. The light had just turned green and after a couple of seconds, Mr Wilson started accelerating into the intersection. Just as they were nearing the middle and about to cross to the other side there was the loud sound of a horn being pressed over and over again. A bright light lit the interior of their little Porsche 911. Both pairs of eyes turned to the left. There it was, a big black SUV. It was racing full pelt towards them, with no signs of stopping. Closer and closer it came. Mr Wilson put his foot down on the accelerator pedal fully, trying to avoid the collision, but nothing could have been able to stop the inevitable. There was a huge bang. The windshield shattered. The little sports car rolled over and over and over again. And then there was nothing._

_When Becky finally came to, she was met with the over-powering smell of disinfectant. Her head hurt. It felt like someone had bashed her over the head with a rock. She was moving. The bed she was lying on vibrated with motion. There was something covering half of her face. Something was wrapped around her neck. She felt dizzy. Things were a little fuzzy around the edges. She could hear some vague noises in the background. Something was digging into her arm. There was a rushing inside her head that had now drowned out the noises. Her vision blurred. And then there was darkness once more._

ooOoo

**Now - 2012**

Becky hurriedly blinked back tears as she remembered him. Her father had died that day. They said that he died instantly. They said that she should be glad that he did not suffer. Judging by his injuries, even if he had survived, he would have wished he _had_ died. But how could she be glad that her dad had been taken away from her? The one person in her life who was the constant, the person who she loved most in the world, whom she trusted. But even he had to be taken away from her. At 16, she was left all alone in the world.

_Enough of this__**, **_she thought to herself. _Dad would want you to be happy on this day. _She took a deep, cleansing breath, subtly brushed the tears from her eyes, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. _Make him proud, Becky._ Now that she had completed her double degree in Law and Business, she was finally able to fully take the reins of her father's company _Wilson and Co._

In his Will, Mr Henry Wilson had left Becky, being his favourite daughter and the one who was going to follow his footsteps into the business world, his entire company, along with all of his holdings, assets and most of his savings. He left his wife a fortune 10 million dollars and each of his other three daughters, Jane, Kate and Lisa, 15 million dollars in trust to be used for academic and living expenses only until they reached the age of 25. Needless to say, this division of his property was bound to cause friction within his (only partly) grieving family.

At the time, Mrs Wilson, who had never really understood her second daughter, was flabbergasted, then furious that her second daughter had inherited billions, whereas she had only such a small share of the prize. And to think that Mr Wilson had the audacity to leave more money to her other daughters than herself! In a nutshell, Mrs Wilson was an unfeeling mercenary who was now jealous of her own daughters. Jane, being the angel that she was, completely understood her father's reasons for leaving the majority of his fortune to his second daughter. He had planned to give Becky the company after he retired anyway, so this just sped up the process a little. Though poor Becky would have a heck of a burden to carry on her young shoulders. Kate and Lisa were happy that they had such a fortune, but their high spirits were immediately dampened when they found out that they could not touch a cent of the 15 million until they were over 25 years old. If they even had two brain cells to rub together, they would have realised that only the 15 million could not be touched, so they could have free reign of the substantial interest generated from the original deposit. But sadly, they only had half a useful brain cell between them, so this detail was lost upon them. And Becky? Well, the grieving girl was shell shocked and numb from losing her beloved father, so she didn't even care that she was now the heiress to a massive fortune and the head of a huge international company.

Becky shook her head slightly to rid her mind of any unpleasant memories that had best stay buried. She smiled as she looked down at all of her classmates, she looked at Jane, who met her eyes across the room and nodded in acknowledgement. Today was the day that she was finally able to close her books forever and never have to go to school again. She had enjoyed her four years at University, but she couldn't say that she was sad to leave behind the endless hours of study, the essays and not to mention the many exams. She had half a week of relaxation to look forward to before she had to travel to the headquarters of Wilson and Co. to meet with the executives and officially take over as the President of the company.

When the ceremony was over, she led the procession off the stage and into the noisy crowd of graduates at the bottom of the stairs.  
"Can you believe it? We made it! And we're still alive!" an energetic blonde practically squealed as she grabbed Becky's shoulders and jumped up and down in her delight.  
"Charlotte! I thought you liked Uni!" Becky teased her best friend Charlotte.  
"Yeah, well, you know. I'll be glad to finally put the days of pulling all-nighters and drinking crappy watery coffee behind me."  
"Hmm… I've got to agree with you there. Can't say I enjoyed those either. Wow! We're finally free!" she laughed, catching some of Charlotte's joy.  
"We have to go out and celebrate! My treat!" Charlotte declared, dragging her through the sea of students.  
"Wait, I have to find Jane first. Then we can go. Where are we going, by the way?"  
"There's this new restaurant down town called The Phoenix that I've been dying to try out. Then we can go to our usual club and part-ay!"  
"Okay, sounds great." Becky replied, just as she spotted Jane being chatted up by Charlotte's older brother Steve.

"Hey Steve, keep your mitts off my sister. She's out of your league," she quipped as she came to stand next to Jane.  
"Aw shucks! I should have known there was some connection between you two! Of course, it only makes sense that two beautiful specimens like you come from the same gene pool." He mock groaned. "Congratulations on making it through hell alive! Nice speech up there by the way – Oh, hi sis," he added belatedly when he finally noticed that Becky was not alone.  
"Great, I'm your sister, and you notice me, when? After about five minutes of standing here." Charlotte rolled her eyes and winked at her brother. "See, Becks? This," she pointed at Steve "is what I had to live with for half my life."  
Steve just shrugged in response and tried to look bored, only succeeding in something that looked like a grimace. Charlotte snorted in response.  
"So what have you decided to do to celebrate?" Jane asked.  
"Let's walk out now, and we'll fill you in when we're in the car, alright? I don't want to be stuck in the traffic getting out of here." Becky replied.

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**Author's Note: Just to clarify her age, Becky is 20, going on 21 right now. She started Uni early because she was a smart kid and skipped a couple of grades at school :) So if she was a January Baby, she would have started Uni right after her 16th birthday (going by the Australian school year) gone through five years to graduate in December before her 21st birthday.  
****Will Darcy was 19 when he left, he is currently 25 years old (his birthday being a little earlier in September, so for the majority of the time, he's four years older, if that makes sense...)**

**Review if you have any comments :D**


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hi :) I really hope you like reading this story. If you don't, please tell why and I'll fix it/add stuff/do something to make it more likeable. If you do like it, let me know too! I would really appreciate any feedback. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing some characters and bits and pieces from Jane Austen's original Pride and Prejudice.**

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**Chapter 2**

At around 10 o'clock that night, the group of four entered their usual nightclub to be greeted by a foggy wall of pulsing music and dozens upon dozens of dancing bodies enjoying a night out.  
"What do you guys want? My shout." Becky asked her friends when they neared the bar.  
"I'll have a Cosmo!"  
"Beer, please."  
"Ooooh I want one of those" – here Charlotte pointed at someone who was walking past them holding two cocktail glasses of this reddish-pinky coloured concoction – "tropical looking cocktails, thanks Becks."  
"Okay, so a Cosmo for Jane, beer for Steve and one of those thingies for Charlotte. Char, do you have any idea what they're called?"  
"Nope… Maybe we should go find that person that just walked by, perhaps? Or you can ask the bartender. He should know if you described it to him. But if he doesn't recognise it, then I'll have a Vodka Tonic."  
"Okay, you guys go find a table if you can and I'll come find you when I've got the drinks."

ooOoo

Becky arrived at their table with a drink-laden tray, to find two perfect strangers sitting with her friends. Surreptitiously raising an eyebrow to Jane while putting the drinks down on the table, she silently demanded an explanation.  
"Oh, Becks, these guys couldn't find a spare table, so they asked to join ours. I hope this is okay for you?" Jane explained. "Becks, these are Charles and Darcy. Charlie, Darcy, this is my sister, Beck."

Becky eyed the two gentlemen cautiously. Although the rather dim lighting of the club made it hard for her to make out the exact features of the two men, it was obvious that both were quite young, one was fair and the other was dark. Due to the fact that they were sitting, she could not tell their height, but she guessed them to be rather tall, the dark haired gentleman seemed to be the taller of the two. It did not escape her notice that the fair gentleman, introduced as Charles, seemed to be subtly staring at Jane, while the other, Darcy, seemed to have a permanent scowl chiselled onto his stone-like countenance._ Hmmm… I wonder what got up his butt today. Darcy, Darcy, where have I heard that name before?_

Her eyes widened as she remembered that Will's last name had been Darcy. Quickly assessing the man sitting before her again, she wondered if they were the same person. She only knew one Darcy, but it was a common enough name, right? This Darcy had been introduced as Darcy, so it must be his first name. It could not possibly be her William. It was too much of a coincidence. She didn't remember Will to be quite so tall, although admittedly, he had been quite tall when she had last seen him five years ago and he could have grown. But this Darcy looked so… she could not find the right word to describe him. Haughty? Intimidating? She finally settled on boorish. _Her_ Will was always cheerful and smiled a lot. Not to mention that he would recognise her, wouldn't he? And so far there had been no spark of recognition in his eyes. No. This was not the same Darcy. It was impossible.

The eyes and minds of the two gentlemen had not been idle either during Becky's silent appraisal. Each had formed their own opinion of the table occupants, and now this latest arrival. Charles was a glass half full kind of person and immediately came to the conclusion that both of the girls at the table were uncommonly pretty, but the blonde girl, Jane, sitting next to the man, Steve, was an absolute angel. He sincerely hoped that Steve was not her boyfriend, and that she was currently unattached. He briefly examined the girl with the drinks. She, too, was very pretty, although not as pretty as Jane. She reminded him slightly of a pixie with her large eyes.

Darcy however, was every suspicious of strangers and rather cynical about humanity, given his wealth and unfortunate attraction of gold-digging mercenaries to his person like bees to honey. Although the three people at the table looked ordinary enough, he was careful to put up his guard regardless of their appearances, as even the most innocent looking people had a propensity for scheming. The endless days spent defending his bachelor title against matchmaking matrons had taught him that lesson at least. Of the new girl, he thought she looked not a day over sixteen years old, and briefly wondered how on Earth she had made it past the bouncer. She was of a short stature and slight build, with long dark hair and a pair of big eyes. The way that she had been eyeing him and Charles up was not a very good sign. With his luck, she had probably recognised him from the tabloids or something and was going to take this chance to sink her claws into him.

After a brief moment of silence, Becky smiled and held out her hand to first Charles and then, out of politeness, to Darcy. _Nice, firm handshakes. They've probably had heaps of practice, judging by their suits._ It was true that both men were wearing expensive custom-made suits that night, sans their ties. They made a rather odd picture, dressed in formal attire while in a nightclub. Their suits made them stick out like your hair when you've just woken up.  
"Nice to meet you Charles; Darcy."  
"And same to you, Beck. Thank you for sharing your table with us. We really appreciate it," Charles answered enthusiastically. Darcy only gave her a nod, his face remaining passive. _Well, nice to meet you, too pokerface. Not even a _hi_ out of common courtesy? Rude!_

ooOoo

Later on in the night, Becky was just returning to their table from the bar when she overheard a conversation between Charles and Darcy.  
"Darcy, could you not take out that stick in your backside for five minutes and at least _try_ to have fun?" Charles said to his friend, clearly exasperated with Darcy's brooding.  
"Fun?" Becky could practically hear the rest of his sentence: A_t a place like this? Preposterous!  
_"Yes, you know, the thing most people come to a club for? Come on! You look stupid sitting here all by yourself. Why don't you dance with Beck?"  
"Charles, you know how I hate being in public places. I hate it even more when there are lots of people around. And you want me to _dance_? In a _public place_? With _lots of people_? You've taken practically everything that makes me uncomfortable and squished it into one! Are you trying to make me die of embarrassment?" Becky started at this speech. _Maybe he's… shy?!  
_"And," Darcy continued, "I suppose she is tolerable to look at. But definitely not good enough for me to dance with even if I _did _like to make a fool of myself in public. Besides, she's nothing more than a _child!_ I wonder that her friends are so irresponsible to bring an under aged person to this place."

Becky bristled at hearing herself and her friends being defamed in this way. _Even being shy doesn't excuse _this_ kind of behaviour!_ With that thought, marched over to the two men, the drink that she had gone to the bar for was held in her hand. As they spotted her approaching when she came near enough to them, she accidently tripped on a – non-existent – uneven tile. Darcy, being the closer of the two to her, tried to catch her as she stumbled. However, he only succeeded in turning himself – or rather his expensive suit – into a sponge and soaked up the full tumbler of dark red liquid.

The liquid had spread all over not only Darcy's dark blazer, but also the light blue shirt underneath. She mumbled a half-hearted "Oh, I'm so sorry! Let me go get you some towels or something" before turning around and fleeing from the scene, feeling quite satisfied with her revenge. She could not help the gleeful smirk that crept into her face when she pictured in her mind his expression turn into one of utter shock and then embarrassment at the accident. However, she did return a while later with the promised wad of paper towels. She felt a little bit sorry for her actions when she remembered that he had tried to catch her when she 'stumbled'. Maybe he was a little bit nice after all?


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hi readers, I really hope that you like my story so far. I would like some feedback, if you have any, or any comments that you have about my progress so far, so send me some reviews :) And Bibicu, thank you for reminding me about emails and letters. I honestly forgot. I hope this chapter solves the communication problem :)**

**Disclaimer: I am only borrowing some of Jane Austen's characters from her book Pride and Prejudice. The names, companies and organisations in this story are all completely fictional and made up. If they coincide with anything real, it was not intentionally done.**

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**Chapter 3**

_Dear Will,_

_I graduated! I survived! Can you believe it? I actually did it! I'm so excited right now; I could sing from the rooftop and dance until morning. My, aren't I getting poetic in my old age.  
Talking about dancing, we – Charlotte, Steve, Jane and I – went to a restaurant for dinner and then went clubbing to celebrate. And before you ask, no I did not drink anything alcoholic. Not that it's against the law, since I've over 18 now. I have been for years, in case you've forgotten. But I digress. You would not belieeeeeve what happened. My blood boils just thinking about it._

Will sat up from his half-slouching, half-lying position on the couch in his penthouse suite. His back tensed up as he read the last sentence, imagining a dozen worst case scenarios ranging from Becca being beaten up to Becca dying in a car accident. But then, that was hardly rational thinking, because she was the one writing the email. On the other hand, who said he was rational?

_No, Will, keep your pants on, no one died, and yes, Will, I am perfectly fine. Not hurt at all. _

He felt a hot flush creeping up his neck and onto his face as he thought back at his unreasonable thoughts. Although there was no one with him at the moment to witness his overreaction, he was still a little embarrassed at how quickly he jumped to the worst conclusions. He relaxed again, chuckling at how well Becca knew him, even though it had been five years since he had actually seen her face to face. By exchanging emails around once a week or so, they had been able to maintain contact with each other and each had kept the other updated on the happenings of their lives.

_Actually, maybe my ego is a bit bruised…  
Long story short, we met a couple of guys tonight. I couldn't really make out their exact looks because it was quite dark, but I think that they were quite good looking. One of them asked Jane to dance, the other just sat there, kind of like a wooden pole. He probably had one shoved so far up his ass that it came out as his face. But that's not the point. Mr Wooden Pole had the gall to _insult_ me. To my face! Okay, I admit, I wasn't supposed to be eavesdropping, but I wasn't doing it on purpose! I promise! But the nerve of the guy! We hadn't even spoken two words to each other and he was bitching about me behind my back! Calling me all sorts of things! He called me ugly! Not that I think that I'm particularly pretty (no, I'm not fishing for a compliment here, it's the truth and you know it), but a girl sure doesn't need to be told that she's _ugly_!  
Insufferable, rude, arrogant, unbearably irritating conceited ass!  
Sorry about my rambling. I needed to get that out of my system. Now that I've vented all my anger out on you (thanks!), how has your week been so far? How is Anna getting along? Tell her hi and wish her a happy birthday for me! Wow, she's nine years old now. The last time I saw her, she was still toddling around, about knee height. She must be all grown up now, huh? Do you think she still remembers me? How have you been with your parenting skills? I'm just an email away if you need any help. Not that I know the first thing to raising children… I'll ask my aunt Maddy and tell you whatever she tells me._

_Well, I think you've just about had enough of your weekly dose of Becca News. I'm going to go to sleep now. It must be sometime in the afternoon in England, isn't it? Ugh, I'm so bad at this time difference thing. You'd think that I'd have mastered it from writing to you for all these years, but no. Reply soon :)_

_Love,  
_– _Rebecca_

William Darcy chuckled softly as he read Becca's latest email. He had taken to calling her Becca in the last couple of years because she had told him that Becky was too childish for someone at the late end of her teens. Her email contained the usual dose of Becca exuberance. Darcy briefly felt sorry for the poor sod who had gotten on the wrong side of her temper this time. He briefly wondered what she had done to him in response. He was probably sliced into decorative star shapes and boiled up in soup by her sharp tongue and hot temper before he even knew he was on the menu. He made a mental note to tell Becca that he was in Australia now for a business trip. Maybe they could catch up some time. He missed having her around to talk to face to face.

He thought back to his own night out. It was a disaster. He had only landed in Australia the day before, and so along with the drastic change in temperature, he was also suffering from the effects of jetlag. Not only that, but as soon as he was out of the plane in the afternoon, he had to make a conference call with his CFO back in England because of an issue that had popped up in the fifteen or so hours that he had been out of his office. He then could not get to sleep due to the time difference, so when Charles had all but bounced into his suite with a smile that could light up a black hole, he was understandably irritated. His mood was further darkened when Charles dragged him kicking and screaming (not literally as he did have his dignity to preserve), out to the closest nightclub he could find.

He was certain that the girl, _what was her name again? Oh, right, Beck_, had overheard him talking to Charles. That was, if the drink that she dumped down his – _damned expensive – _Armani suit was an indication. She had not looked too surprised when she had stumbled, and when she got up to "fetch some towels", she had looked much too pleased with herself, not at all the face of mortified contrition that people usually wore when they trip and spill their drink on someone else. Not that he had a lot of experience in that department.

Will sighed. He hadn't meant to insult her. Certainly not within her hearing range. But, he tried to reason with himself, it was really quite rude of her to be eavesdropping. _But it was even more bad-mannered of you to be insulting someone behind their back like a common gossip! _He sighed again. He could not escape his conscience. He could picture Becca, if she knew what he had done, standing with her hands on her hips, a scowl of indignation for the girl on her face, pointing her finger and bringing the wrath of hell onto his head for his boorish behaviour. Should he tell her of his bad behaviour? _No_. He wouldn't tell her, so he could avoid her anger. A mad Becca was a force to be reckoned with. Nope, he was not stupid to bring that onto himself. After all, he wasn't _stupid_. He opened a new window and typed up his reply.

_Dear Becca,  
Congratulations! How did your speech go? I trust you did not fall on your face while walking up and down the stairs to the stage? See, your fears of making a fool out of yourself were entirely groundless.  
I hope your night wasn't too bad. The guy sounds like a jerk. How could anyone think that you're anything less than beautiful? If I could, I would go over there right now, and pummel his face in. If won't help much, but it'll feel pretty good. I think. I hope you exacted your revenge. But you didn't do something too dreadful, did you? I'd hate to be getting an email you send from a police holding cell or something. Do they let you email people in holding cells in Australia? I'm pretty sure they don't back in England.  
My week has been pretty boring up to this point. I have been on conference call after conference call. The company's been really busy this week. I have had so many meetings that I have practically been living in my office. I know, it's not very healthy, but it'll get better. In fact, it already has. I didn't get the chance to tell you in my last email, but I have a surprise for you! I hope it'll be a nice surprise.  
I'M COMING TO AUSTRALIA! Well, actually I _am_ in Australia at the moment, Melbourne in fact. My plane landed this morning and one of my colleagues dragged me kicking and screaming to a club – of all places! As soon as I arrived! I tell you, if he wasn't such a great friend, I would have fired him for this. Not my idea of fun after a long and tiring flight. I would have rather stayed at my hotel and gone to sleep. But then, I guess that wouldn't have helped with my jetlag. He insisted that I have some fun and socialise with the locals. I did not have fun. At least we have this in common, Becca. We both had a terrible night. I had to sit in a crowded, smoggy space twiddling my thumbs while my friend hit on a girl and looked like he was having the time of his life. It was dreadful, not to mention awkward.  
Anna is wonderful. I'm not really sure if she remembers you or not, because I tell her everything that you write in these emails anyway. Or a censored version. Can't have my baby sister learn all your colourful insults while she's nine, can I? So she knows you pretty well. I will pass on your greetings to her the next time that I see her. She is up to about halfway up my chest now. She's growing up so quickly. I'm so proud of her. I hope that you can meet her again someday. Maybe I'll come back again when she's on holiday.  
Do you want to get together sometime, since I'm in the area? You haven't moved out of Melbourne, have you? I hope now, because this would be a lot harder if we're at opposite ends of the same country. I missed Australia. I'm glad to be back. Here is my phone number –-. Call me any time you're free and we could work out something. I can't wait to see you.  
Love,  
_– _William_

Will looked over the email again, looking for any mistakes, or anything that didn't make sense before he sent it. He felt excitement and anticipation well up inside of him at the thought of finally seeing Becca again. He couldn't wait for her reply or her call. He stared at his email, as if silently using his mind powers to will Becca into replying instantly. This, of course, did not work. No, it only made him feel stupid and foolish.

He sighed, got up and finally went to bed after a quick hot shower. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, dreaming about his petite friend and the girl who poured her drink all over him earlier. Maybe he should apologise…?

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**Any comments? Or suggestions on what is going to happen next? Post a review :)**


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hi everyone :) I'm going to be really busy these next couple of weeks, so I may not get as many updates in as quickly as I have these last few chapters. Enjoy this next chapter and REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Any names (except for the obvious such as car brands, etc) and circumstances that occur in this story are figments of my imagination and if they are in any way similar to something in real life, it is purely coincidental.**

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**Chapter 4**

Becky grumbled as she was dragged out of the land of nod and into the real world by the ringing of her alarm clock. The obnoxious thing was ringing and buzzing and jumping around. It had seemed like a good idea to set it on the loudest setting the night before, but right now, she did not appreciate the noise. That is, until she remembered _why_ she had had to set her alarm. As the thought hit her, she jumped about a meter high and landed not-very-neatly on the floor as her feet were still tangled around her blanket.

Today was the first day that she was 'officially' running Wilson and Co, now that she had her degree(s). She had been learning from her father since she had just turned fourteen, so she knew how a company was run. She had also been kept up to date on the company's progress by the current CEO and acting Chairman, Mr Koleman, and her sister Jane who also worked at Wilson and Co. as Becky's personal assistant. Jane did not need to work, due to her trust fund, but had chosen to become Becky's PA in order to help Becky with the load had had been settled onto her shoulders.

Becky scrambled to her feet while untangling herself from her blanket. Her mind was running at a thousand miles a minute, thinking of the day ahead, and imagining hundreds of possible embarrassing situations that she could put herself in. She worried that her employees would not like her, the heads of different departments would not respect her, she would make a fatal mistake that could lose the company's respectability, ruin the company's reputation and finally, she worried that she would break a heel. Knowing her luck, of course even her most trusty shoes would break for her on the single most important day of her life, probably just to spite her.

She quickly hopped into the shower and in five minutes flat, she was back out again wrapped in her bathrobe while towel drying her hair. She glanced at the clock. 6:40 am. She had about twenty minutes to get ready, half an hour to make then eat breakfast and then she had to be out of her apartment by 7:30. She stood still for a moment and listened for the familiar sounds of Jane pottering about in the kitchen making breakfast. Sniffing the air, she could just make out the faint smell of coffee. Yep. Jane was officially up and running.

Jane was a part of the group of people who are disgustingly cheerful and bouncy in the mornings. Jane could get up at any ungodly hour in the morning and still smile and have all her mental facilities in place. Becky was not a morning person. It wasn't like Becky was particularly lazy, she just preferred to sleep until a decent hour, usually after seven. And to be able to be _happy_ in the morning without first having a good dose of caffeine was pure blasphemy. Absolutely ridiculous. Impossibly unnatural behaviour. _Gah._

"Good morning!" Jane exclaimed with a huge smile and handed her a mug of coffee. Becky just grunted and muttered something in reply. Jane was not offended at her sister's ill manners, in fact, she was surprised that Becky had even bothered to make any sort of noise. Jane always turned the coffee machine on in the morning to make a fresh brew for Becky, even though she did not drink coffee herself – she was more of a herbal tea person. The reason for this service being that she would not trust Becky with a toothbrush when she was still half awake, much less something electrical, complicated, expensive and extremely hot. No, she preferred to be able to come back to an apartment at the end of the day, rather than some burnt down rubble or worse.

"So what do I have to do today?" Becky asked as the caffeine worked its magic.

"Well, you are going to tour the building first, then inspect your new office and see if you're missing anything. Then, you have a meeting with the board of directors at eleven o'clock sharp. Make sure that you're not late to that. You have to give them a good first impression. This will bring us to lunch time. You can either have lunch with Mr Koleman or you can come out with me. Actually, could you come with me? I'm meeting someone at the Phoenix Hotel. After lunch, you are going to meet with some of the heads of departments and then you have a meeting with a couple of our partners at three o'clock. You can go home at five. Oh, and do you want to drive, or do you want Mr McLean to drive you?"

Becky listened to Jane rattle off one thing after the other and felt herself get more and more tired just listening to all the activities that had been jammed into this one day. A day of school was a piece of cake compared to this. She would never again complain about her University days after this.

"I think I'm going to ask Mr McLean to drive me today. I'm probably going to crash and burn if I try to even put the key in the ignition. No use endangering the lives of the people who are out and about today. Who are you going out to lunch with?"

Jane felt the tips of her ears burn as she worked hard to keep an indifferent look on her face. "Charles Bingley." She said, smiling slightly while her cheeks took on a slight pink tinge which was not missed by Becky.

"Charles. The Charles that we met the other day? At the club? The one who is friends with that man with the ghastly manners?"

Jane didn't say anything, only nodded shyly. Becky had told her all about her unfortunate dealings with Charles' friend the uptight Darcy. She wondered at the audacity of the man to insult Becky before he had even spoken ten words to her altogether. Maybe there was some mistake? But if there wasn't Darcy had gotten what he deserved with the spilt drink. That should have taught him not to mess with her sister. If only she had been there to see it.

Now, Jane is not a malicious or a vindictive person. In fact, she was mild and completely unflappably angelic and sweet and all around nice. That is, until someone messes with the people that were closest to her heart. People like her family, Becky especially, and her friends. If someone intentionally hurt someone that she loved, then they had better watch out. By the time that she had finished with them, they would wish that they had never set foot within a ten miles radius of Jane. If you entered Jane Wilson's heart, then you were there to stay, and you would have her fierce loyalty for life. But you had to work hard to work your way in first. Although she was very trusting, to the verge of gullible and naïve, she was extremely protective of her heart and was a rather reserved person. But she gave off such an aura of kindness and warmth that you wouldn't be able to see that she held you at arms-length unless you look very closely.

After she finished her breakfast of a piece of toast and an apple, Becky went back to her room to get dressed. She had chosen an outfit last night to save some time this morning. She put on a pair of sheer black stockings underneath a black pencil skirt that ended around five centimetres above her knee, a navy silk short sleeved blouse and a tailored black blazer that matched her skirt. She chose to wear shiny black three inch Manolo pumps to give her a bit of extra height. Not that it helped much, because even with the shoes on she was barely 5'6. She did not put any make-up on because she didn't like covering her face with who-knows-what chemicals they put in cosmetics.

Finally, her preparations drew to a close as she put in her coloured contacts. She had made a decision with Jane last night to introduce herself as Liz Bennet rather than Rebecca Wilson to her colleagues and to the media. Liz came from her middle name, Elizabeth, and Bennet was the maiden name of her Aunt Maddy. As well as her change of appearance – she had dyed her brown hair raven black and gotten blue coloured contacts (real) and a pair sleek black glasses (fake), she hoped that no one would be able to recognise her if they didn't look too close. She didn't want her mother and sisters exposed to any more media than they currently were. She also did not want any hint of scandal connected to her name. It wasn't that she was disowning her family. No, she had to protect her reputation now because it would directly and indirectly affect her company if she was linked to any scandal in any way. Knowing how prone her family was to getting into…_unique_… situations, she did not doubt that their activities would be painted all over the covers of _People _magazine. She didn't want her company to suffer because of the silliness of her mother and two younger sisters.

The home phone rang just as she had finished pinning her mass of black curls in an elegant French twist. Mr McLean was waiting downstairs with the car. Time to face the music. Looking into the mirror one more time, the comments of the arrogant man from last night came rushing back to her mind. "Tolerable, but not good enough for me" he had said. _Well, I'll show him _tolerable_ when I next see him!_ She stood upright, back ramrod straight, chin raised as a defiant look washed into her – now blue – eyes. She thought that she looked a little older with her altered appearance. If she was lucky, she could probably pass off as a twenty-five year old. She would show to the world just how confident and capable she was. She was cool, confident, unflappable Liz Bennet, Chairwoman of Wilson and Co, now one of the biggest business conglomerates in Australia and the world, and she was going to let _no one_ tell her what to do.

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**Author's Note: I hate to admit it, but I am sadly lacking in a funny bone. Nothing I write everything comes out funny… So if anyone has any advice, or any suggestions, please help and review!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: To avoid any confusion, I'm just going to clarify that Becky is known to her family and friends as Becks, and I'm using Becky whenever I use her name when telling the story. Darcy refers to her as Becca (used in his thoughts and his point of view) and the company and Media know her as Miss R. Liz Bennet, shortly known as Liz or Miss Bennet. The reason for the R at the start is so that she would not completely lying about her identity, as that would not be ethically correct. I hope I haven't confused you more :/**

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**Chapter 5**

"How was your meeting, Miss Bennet?" asked Jane as she met Becky stepping out of the conference room. They had decided between them that Jane would address her sister formally while they were at work in order to prevent any speculation from occurring regarding their relationship and bring to attention to Becky's using an alias.  
Becky sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "About as well as it could go," she said shortly. "I'll tell you more when we're out of here."  
Jane nodded slightly in sympathy and remained silent.

"Oh, Jane! It was… awful! There were fourteen board members altogether, not including me, and they were all so _old_. I swear, as soon as I walked into the room, everyone went silent and suddenly, there were fourteen pairs of very male, very old, very severe, very judgemental eyes on me. It was like walking into a room with a pack of wolves sitting there, waiting for their midday meal – me! You could see that they were just waiting for me to screw up so they could find an excuse to chuck me out. You couldn't read their thoughts clearer than if they jumped around waving a massive red sign reading "You don't belong here, we don't want you here, we're so much better than you!" They were so very intimidating, and you could see that they weren't impressed when a very _young_, very _female_ new chairman – I should say woman – walk in." Becky started her tirade as soon as they were in the car – a very sleek, very shiny black Bentley. She had to admit, although she wasn't usually very interested in flashy, expensive cars, this car had style.

"I'm sure they weren't waiting for you to make a mistake! They were probably just curious as to who the new chair was. You are going to be the one in charge from now on, and the identity of the head of Wilson and Co has not been made public yet. Oh, that reminds me, we need to call a press conference confirming your role as the new Chairwoman of Wilson and Co. It will be your first public appearance since dad's funeral for you, and the first public appearance of 'Liz Bennet' so you have to get it right. We could book the Hilton conference room for you, if you don't want to hold it here."

_Oh Jane, if only you had seen them with your own eyes…_ she held her breath and counted to ten as she stifled the urge to scream and cry and roll her eyes at Jane all at once. Jane was too nice for her own good. Becky couldn't wait for the day to be over already, and it was only twelve thirty! If her afternoon meetings first with the heads of departments and then her business partners were going to pan out like the one she just walked out of, she was going to find the nearest lake and jump. Then she could go to heaven and give her father a piece of her mind for hiring these old cronies in the first place. Letting her breath out again – she was starting to get dizzy from the lack of oxygen – she asked Jane why exactly she – Becky, that is – was tagging along on Jane's lunch date with her soon-to-be boyfriend.

"Rebecca! He is not my _soon-to-be boyfriend_! We are just friends. And he probably doesn't see me that way anyway. And it's not a date! We are only going to grab some lunch together and get to know each other."  
"Whether you admit it or not, it _is _a date, and _I_ for one don't want to sit there and act as the third wheel."  
"Actually, he's bringing his friend, and if you insist on calling this a date, then it'll be a _double_ date. You are to be paired up with his friend." Jane shot back, smirking slightly.

Hearing this, Becky shot up about a foot from her slouching position in the corner of her seat, leaning against the door. She turned to her sister – she took back what she said about Jane being angelic, no, evil Cruella De Vil was much more suitable – and glared. Any lesser person would have wilted into a pile of burnt dust under her gaze, but Jane just looked right back and smirked some more. She knew that Becky hated nothing more than blind dates. Oh, the horror!  
"Just _what_, are you trying to do, _dear_ sister of mine?" she asked sarcastically.  
"Nothing!" Jane dropped her smirk and replaced it with one of wide eyed innocence. "I'm just trying to make a point."  
Nothing was to be heard from the Becky's corner as she conceded defeat. For now.

Meanwhile, the car had come to a stop outside the entrance of the Phoenix Hotel. The girls, each lost in their thoughts, had not noticed this fact. When their driver, Mr McLean, quickly pulled open the door expecting to hand his passengers out, he was instead greeted with a high pitched shriek and a blurry mass of flailing limbs. Becky, who had been slouching against the door was quite oblivious to all that was around her until her backrest disappeared. _Wha-? _Her mind took a moment to unscatter itself from where it had drifted. _Oh. Oh – shit._ She tried desperately to latch onto something and anything before she could be treated to an up close and personal experience with the ground. But it was all in vain, and she greeted the looming pavement with a shriek. Any hope of grace and elegance went out the door. Literally.

"Oh my goodness, Miss! I am so terribly sorry! I had no idea that you were leaning against the door. I couldn't see anything through these tinted windows. It won't happen again, I swear!" Mr McLean said, horrified at what he had done, yet a little traitorous part of his brain had an urge to laugh at the spectacle. That, however, would leave him penniless and without employment. So he diligently supressed said urge until it was nothing but a tickling thought at the back of his mind. Jane, however, had no such scruples, and after giving her sprawled sister a concerned over, where she confirmed that no lasting harm had been done to anything but her ego, she further attacked said ego by giving a small snort, followed by giggles, until it transformed into convulsions of laughter.

Becky quickly got up as gracefully as possible – not very, considering she had been lying on the floor – and dusted herself off. Her face flushed an unhealthy shade of red. When she became aware of Mr McLean's horrified expression and repeated "sorrys", she held up a hand and waved off his apologies. She surreptitiously looked up and down the street to see if anyone had witnessed her little accident other than her sister. No one was staring at her, so she took that as a good sign. Her mind quickly went over each of her body parts, checking that all her parts were working properly. Nothing broken. Nothing missing. Her head was still screwed on right. She may miss a few brain cells, but she'll live. That done, she could finally look back and see the humorous side of her spill. She pictured how she must have looked and couldn't help but laugh at herself.

Still giggling occasionally, the two sisters walked arm in arm through the lobby until they were greeted by the maître d'hôtel as they entered the restaurant door.  
"We are meeting a Charles Bingley here?" Jane stated hesitantly. "I think he has a reservation under his name."  
"Oh, yes. He's already here. Follow me."  
The maître d'hôtel turned and led them to a table tucked in a quiet corner at the back of the restaurant. Charles, who had seated himself so that he had the best view of the door, had seen them and stood up as he greeted them, kissing Jane on the cheek and shaking Becky's hand. There was another person seated at the table with his back towards the sisters so they couldn't recognise him at first. From what she could see of the make and cut of his suit, Becky guessed that he was quite well off and was rather fit. She wondered briefly if his front side looked as good as his back side promised.

The man in question pushed his chair back, stood up, and turned around.  
Becky's jaw dropped. It was –

"You!"

"You!"

Both Darcy and Becky yelled out at the same time, attracting the notice of several diners. The former turned red with embarrassment while the latter flushed with anger. While Darcy was fervently hoping that the ground would open up and swallow him whole, Becky was busy frothing at her mouth as she imagined the thousands of violent acts she could commit to the man who had insulted her. However, they were not to be as she would be arrested. Unfortunately. She briefly wondered at her violent reaction to his presence. He only insulted her. Plenty of people had insulted her before, often to her face, so why was she so riled up with this one? So she did the next best thing.

She turned around and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving behind a bemused audience.

She was found pacing around in her office on the top floor of the Wilson and Co. by her sister an hour later. The door was closed and the blinds were drawn, so no one could see or hear her venting out her frustration. _Of all people! Of all the people in the world for Charles to bring to lunch, he picks _him_!_

"Becks?" Jane said, gently closing the door after her.

She got a grunt in response. Becky then went back to hurling obscenities at anything and everything, especially at _that man_. She cursed him through to hell and back, swearing that she would kick his ass the next time that she saw him.

"Rebecca Elizabeth Bennet Wilson!" Jane shouted. Becky's pacing screeched to a halt. Her head snapped up and she blinked, as if seeing Jane for the first time. Maybe that grunt hadn't been in response to her greeting after all? "Becks, you have to calm down!"

_Calm down?! Calm down?!_ How on Earth could Jane ask her to calm down? Pfft, she would do better to ask a charging rhino to calm down. In other words, it wasn't going to happen. Not when _that man_ just ruined her already shoddy day. _No way_. _That man_ had rubbed salt into her wounds, added insult to injury, when he yelled at her that fateful night, sealing his fate as the first and only person on her hit list.

ooOoo

_She returned with some paper towels. She may have wanted revenge, and she had got it. But she had found some kindness in her heart – or was it her oversized conscience? – so she went to get some towels for Darcy to wipe some of the moisture off. There was nothing to do about the red short of pouring a bucket of bleach over the top of him. But something told her that he might not appreciate that any more than he appreciated her attempt to add some colour to his appearance._

"_Here." She said shortly and waved a wad of towels in front of his face._

_He raised an eyebrow, not making the least effort to take them._

"_Look, I'm sorry. It was an accident. I'll pay for your dry cleaning. Ok?"_

_Darcy scoffed at her offer. "You _drench_ me with whatever the hell this is, and you say you're _sorry_?" he exclaimed incredulously, his voice slowly rising in volume. "Do you know how _expensive_ this suit was? Not to mention the _inconvenience_ you've caused me by your _drunken clumsiness_! Honestly woman, don't you ever look at the ground when you walk?"_

"_It wouldn't have mattered, because I would not have been able to see you, then I would have bumped into you and spilt my drink on you anyway," she smirked. "Genius."_

"_Well – " Darcy was stumped. She was right. Either way, he would have ended up wet. Damn. Darcy didn't like being proven wrong. He liked being rendered speechless even worse. Especially by someone who had probably grown up in the slums by the looks of it. Unwittingly, he had muttered the last part of his thoughts out loud. Not a good idea. _

_Becky's colour slowly rose from her anger. Who did he think he was, judging everyone he saw? _Slums_? What kind of eyes did he have? Just because she didn't act like the arrogant prick that he was, didn't mean that she was uneducated and _lower_ than him. So she didn't stick her nose in the air at everyone as if they were somehow not good enough for her. It makes her a better person. Unlike _somebody_ she could point out. It wasn't like it was the seventeenth century._

"_What? Too plebeian and uneducated for you talk to, is that it? My money too stained with _working class_? Or do you think that we plebeian people will give you a disease? You know what? Whatever. You do what you want. I don't even know why I bothered. Have a good life." She turned to go. "Bastard."_

"_And you're just going to leave? What about this?" he asked, making her stop. He gestured to himself._

"_What do you want me to do? I already gave you some towels, attempted to offer to pay the dry cleaning bill, which, I might add, you refused. I said I was sorry. It was an _accident_. Do you want me to get down on my knees or something?!"_

_He raised an imperious eyebrow._

"_A nice, _sincere_ apology would be nice."_

"_You already got one. But if it's not good enough for you, then you can go and f– "_

"_Look, lady, there's no need to be so rude when this was clearly your fault."_

"Rude_?! Me?!" she snorted derisively. "You should really take a good long look in the mirror one day."_

_She shot back at him and turned around._

"_Wait. I _order_ you to stop!" he yelled, exasperated by her attitude._

"_Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to do?"_

"_I'm Darcy of –"_

"_Well, _Darcy_" she sneered as she spat out his name. "Kiss. My. Ass."_

ooOoo

Further fuming was rendered impossible when Becky's junior assistant, Miss Linda Jones, knocked and opened the door and announced,

"The President of Pemberley Hotels to see you, Ma'am."

At Becky's nod, she opened the door and he walked in.

_What the f…?_

**A/N: So, what do you think?**


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who answered my questions!**

**Disclaimer: I only own the events that do not appear familiar to you. The rest belongs to Jane Austen.**

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**Chapter 6**

He walked confidently, almost like an arrogant swagger. Almost, but not quite. No, he was too uptight and his expression too severe. And Fitzwilliam Darcy, owner of Pemberley Hotels and holdings and member of the highest echelons of society did not _swagger_. Such a thing was absurd! Unheard of! What would people think of him? No, he walked with grace and poise, and an impeccable posture.

"Thanks," he said and nodded to Miss Jones as he passed her. When he turned back to address the person he had flown half way around the world for, he fixed the mandatory "it's nice to meet my new business partner whom I care nothing about but have to make a good impression to" smile on his face. That is, he was about to, until he got his first proper look at the occupants of the room.

Two pairs of stupefied blue eyes blinked back at him. The two ladies were wide-eyed and open-mouthed. If he wasn't the one who had landed in this awkward situation, he would have laughed at their startlingly accurate imitation of goldfish. But as it was, he could do nothing but stare back, as wide-eyed and slack-jawed as they were, doing his own excellent impression of the aforementioned species. The speech that he had rehearsed in the car ride died before it was even born.

Slowly, he backed out of the room. He looked at the name plate fixed on the door. _Miss R. Elizabeth Bennet. Chairman._ Well, he concluded, he hadn't walked into the wrong room. He had followed the secretary. She must know her way around here. Which led him to two options. Either _they_ were in the wrong room, which seemed hardly likely due to the casual way that they were standing in the room as if they owned it. Or one of _them_ was R. Elizabeth Bennet the _owner_ of one of the biggest business conglomerates in the country.

_Shit_.

* * *

What seemed like a century passed before either party found themselves capable of forming sensible thoughts, let alone be able to say something coherent.

"Oh. It's _you_." Becky blurted out, breaking the stifling silence. Or maybe not so coherent. Darcy blinked, as if he was surprised to be there.

"Uh…"

"Well? What do you want?" Becky cut in impatiently before Darcy could form his sentence properly. "Come on, spit your sentence out. Or has the indomitable Darcy tongue finally been caught? Do tell me which cat got your tongue. I would like to personally thank it."

Again, Darcy tried to begin a sentence; however his wits seemed to have deserted him – _traitors - _after hearing her sardonic comment. Standing there humming and hawing like a blubbering fool, Darcy wanted to crawl into a hole.

Meanwhile, Becky was rather sadistically enjoying making Darcy squirm. She wasn't usually a vindictive person, but there was something about him that made her want to aggravate him. Maybe it was because he was making it so damn _easy_ to rile him up. His face looked so red that it could spontaneously combust at any given moment. For such a (from what she had seen) stoic person, he had an amazingly broad array of different facial expressions. His look varied from absolute horror to anger – probably at being laughed at – to acute mortification. Darcy would have been quite surprised at how easily Becky could read him. In fact, even Becky was surprised at how well she could read the emotions flitting across his face.

Although she had barely spoken two proper sentences to the man standing before her (not including their arguments), she found that his carefully controlled face was an open book to her. The widening of his eyes and slight opening of his mouth before he schooled his expression indicated his surprise and horror. His nostrils flaring and the almost unnoticeable tightening of his mouth gave him away as being angry or severely displeased, the slight dot of pink on the tip of his ears signified embarrassment, and the way that he kept fidgeting with that signet ring on his little finger gave away his discomfort. She felt a small niggling in the back of her mind that he seemed a little familiar, but she couldn't place that sense of familiarity. So she pushed that thought aside, knowing that she'd remember it at probably the most unexpected of times.

Finally, Becky took pity on him and held out her hand.

"Liz Bennet. Chairman and owner of Wilson and Co. business conglomerate, and all that. Surprised to see me?"

"Hi, I'm William Darcy, President of Pemberley Hotels and holdings. Wait… Liz? But I thought your name was Beck?"

_Crap._ She was caught out. While she was trying to figure out how to avoid answering that question, the niggling came back. Stronger. What had triggered it this time? All he had done was introduce himself. Turned out that Darcy was his last name, not his first. _Wait a second. _What did he say that his first name was? William… William… Why did that name sound so familiar to her? William Darcy…

_Holy Mother of Flying Cows!_

Realisation struck Becky like a bolt of lightning. She suddenly understood why he seemed so familiar. And why she felt as though she knew him very well after only meeting him twice. At this new revelation, she shot out of her chair as if it were a burning hotplate.

"FITZWILLIAM GEORGE ALEXANDER DARCY!" She yelled out before her brain had fully processed its monumental discovery. This man, this arrogant, aloof, rude, conceited, proud, _jerk-face_, was _Will_. _Her Will._

* * *

Will jumped about a foot in the air at her harsh tone. Hearing his full name spoken so sternly for the first time since his mother had died; he was immediately confused and felt oddly ashamed – although he didn't understand what he was in trouble for. They had even gotten the intonation right! _Mum? _He looked around for his mother before his mind recognised the impossibility of it being his mother come back from the dead to scold him for something he had done wrong. After double checking that there was no one in the room apart from himself and Becky, he snapped his attention back to Becky. _How the heckled hens did she know his full name?!_

He peered at Becky. She didn't look like the stalker type. Yet the only person other than his sister and close family that knew his full name was…

"Becca?" he gasped.

Darcy racked his brain. He remembered something about Mr Wilson owning a business. And Becca had told him about the accident four years ago. So that would explain why she was here. And why the Chairman of the company was so young. But the name of the woman in front of him was Liz! No, it couldn't be. But…

Wait.

Darcy also shot out of his seat. Without a word, he sprinted to the door, leaving a bemused Becky staring after him. He opened it and looked at the name plate. _R. Elizabeth Bennet._ R. R stands for… REBECCA!

_Shit on toast!_ _What had he done?!_

Sheepishly he slunk back into the office.

* * *

**Sorry for the shortness... writer's block... any suggestions?**


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hello again :) Glad to see you back :) I was hoping to go for some humour in the last chapter. Did it work? Enjoy this new chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Last time I checked, Jane Austen would be about 200 years old if she was writing this now... And the world record for the oldest woman ever is about 116? years old... so yeah. I don't own her characters, but everything else are figments of my imagination :D**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Neither spoke a word.

He didn't dare look at her.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. _

The silence was deafening. He could hear every single tick of the clock. Every breath she took. The dripping of the tap in her bathroom. The tapping of her fingers. Every single little sound seemed to be amplified. And it was doing nothing to help his nerves. He had some serious explaining to do. _Yeah. No shit Sherlock. You think?_ He could now add imbecilic half-wit to the already miles-long list of colourful words that he could be classified as at the moment. He wanted to kick his teeth in. How could he have been so _stupid_?

In hindsight, he now saw all of the similarities between his and what Becca had told him about her night at the club a few nights ago. He should have worked out that Becca and the girl at the night club were the same person. There could only be one girl in the world who had the guts to pour a drink over a stranger, then self-righteously scold them - although he admitted that he had it coming for him. He should never have said that she was only tolerable. He should not have insulted her. He definitely shouldn't have yelled at her. He should not have been… how did she put it? _An insufferable, rude, arrogant, unbearably irritating conceited ass._ Those words hurt. They cut his heart worse than a thousand knives ever could. But he deserved it. Every last word. No, he deserved more. How could he?!

The way that she had yelled his name was so filled with hurt, exasperation, anger, shock and a myriad of other emotions that he didn't really want to guess. Darcy could tell that she was disappointed in him. She trusted him more than most people in the world, especially since the accident and the debacle with her – pathetic excuse of a person also known as her – mother and two – imbecilic, ignorant and nasty – younger sisters. And what had he gone and done? He had ripped that trust up into a billion little pieces and trampled, cremated and buried it. _What must she think of me?!_

He felt as if his tie was choking him. He reached up and pulled at his collar. He touched his forehead. It was moist. _Damn, where's the Darcy mask when I need it? Idiot! The Darcy mask was what got you into this mess in the first place. _His normally starched stiff posture deflated, leaving him slouched in his chair. He prayed desperately to whoever was up there laughing at him to give him a hand out of this situation. So he sat there. Desperately hoping for a miracle. _Sweet baby turnips! Please! _Maybe they could fall into a black hole and go back in time? Oh! How he would give all he had right now to go back to when they had met and replay the whole of the club disaster.

* * *

Becky looked at her watch. She tapped her foot. Stilled her foot. Glanced at the clock. Studied the wallpaper on her computer. She inspected her fingernails. Picked up a pen. Put it down. Picked it up again. Clicked it. Shifted in her chair. Slipped off the torture tools that she used as shoes. Crossed her legs. Uncrossed them. Put her shoes back on. Tapped her fingers on her desk. Sighed. She looked everywhere but at _him_. She tried to distract herself by focussing her attention on other things. It wasn't working. But she'd as soon as jump out of her office window than be the one who spoke first. No. He got them here. He could fix it. Why should she make it any easier for him? He may be her best friend, but it didn't mean that he would be forgiven immediately. An ass was still an ass. Just because it got an identity change, doesn't mean that it could suddenly change from a donkey to a racehorse. She still didn't like the man sitting in front of her. And she'd go on disliking him until he did something about it. _What had happened to the old Will?_

* * *

Darcy opened his mouth. Snapped it closed. What was he supposed to say? He wiped his hands down his shirt. Expensive Italian silk be damned. He swallowed. His throat was uncomfortably dry. He wanted – no needed – a glass of water. He looked at the vase of flowers sitting on a stand in the corner of the room. Could he? _No_. It would only add crazy madman lunatic onto his ever-growing list. But he was _desperate_.

The tension in the room was so thick that he swore he could have swum in it. He was surprised that he could still breathe. Barely. The pressure was building with every tick of that bloody clock on the wall. He wondered if Becca would mind if he threw it out of her window? It felt as if it was mocking him with every tick. He wished that she would have mercy on him. However little he deserved it. He wondered how long this would go on for. He wouldn't be able to hold out any longer.

_Squeeeeeaaaak._

Both Becky and Darcy jumped at the sudden sound. Becky was embarrassed because it was her chair – and therefore in extension her – that had made the sound and broke the silence. For Darcy, the creak was the catalyst to his breakdown.

"Mercy!" he cried out, while simultaneously throwing himself onto his knees. Darcy had always had a flair for dramatics; he never did things by halves. He had remembered a game that he and Becca used to play, Mercy. They would tickle each other until one of them couldn't take it anymore. Darcy was the one who had always held the advantage because of his greater height and weight, so Becky would scream out Mercy to make him stop his torture. Hoping that a bit of humour and a reminder of the past would soften her towards him, he acted.

Unable to help herself, Becky snorted. Seeing the stiff as a stick Darcy down on his knees in front of her was just too amusing. She too was reminded of the times where they had played that game together in the past. Now, the tickling was replaced with a torture of a different kind. And she held all of the cards. But he wasn't forgiven. Not yet. Not this easily.

She raised a disdainful eyebrow. She refused to open her mouth.

"I…I…" he stuttered. He should have known that she was going to be difficult about this. _Get a grip on yourself, Darcy!_

"Becca, I am so, so, so sorry. I… I didn't know what I was doing. I was… not in my right mind." he finally got out. _Bugger._ That had sounded a lot better in his head.

"Clearly." Becky muttered sarcastically. Darcy cringed.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean what I said! I swear! I don't think that you're anything less than beautiful! I shouldn't have said that!"

"Damn right you shouldn't have." She snapped. Her rage at being insulted had risen full force. She stood up. "Who do you think you are, Darcy, insulting people that you barely know? But it's okay. Because now I know what you really think of me."

Darcy also rose. He didn't want to be spoken down on. It made him feel like he was three again. "No! I don't think that! If I had known who you were, then I would never have said what I did! I swear." _Oh snake's armpit! That didn't come out sounding too great either. Argh!_ He roughly raked his fingers through his hair.

"No, you would have thought it, but not said it." She snapped. "I'm glad we got that cleared up. Now I know that you wouldn't give a pin's head about me if I wasn't your 'friend'." She drew quotation marks in the air with her fingers when she said the word friend.

His eyes widened. _That wasn't what he meant! _He should have known that she would misconstrue his words! At this rate, he was going to dig himself right through the core of the Earth. _Fool!_

"No! I didn't – I don't – I – " he tried desperately to explain himself. "I was a moron! A massive ginormous ass! A jerk! An imbecile! An idiot! I was an arrogant, pompous, conceited fool. And I know that you're probably never going to forgive me for it, but please believe me when I say that I didn't mean a word I said! And most definitely didn't mean for you to hear me!"

"Oh. I see!" She feigned understanding. "You are sorry!" Darcy nodded emphatically here.

"Sorry that I heard you." She continued bitterly. All the hurt that she had not allowed herself to feel because of his venomous words leaked through. "Not sorry for your disgusting words, or your disdainful attitude. But you don't care about what you said and how you acted, do you? You're only sorry that I _heard_ you! How _could_ you?!" Her pitch had slowly escalated, and she was on the verge of tears.

"Becky! I didn't mean it that way! I can't believe you're purposely misunderstanding me! I _am_ sorry! Sorry that I said those words! I swear, I've always thought that you were the most beautiful girl I've ever known. I shouldn't have yelled at you when you spilt that drink on me, even if it was on purpose. I deserved it. I shouldn't have said those demeaning words to you. I should have behaved better.

Please forgive me? I promise. I swear I'll make it up to you! I'll do anything, _anything_, for your forgiveness. I don't even care if you told me to go to hell. I'll do it, if it means you'll forgive me for being such a fool."

Becky was moved by his earnestness. His eyes told her that he meant every word. And she believed him. Two tears slid silently down her cheeks. She had missed him. Her Will. Her best friend, confidant, partner in crime. She was glad that he was back. But there was a score she had to settle first.

"Anything?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Anything," he nodded solemnly. _Oh dear._

She slowly got up from her chair and walked around her desk on slightly shaky legs. Standing in front of Darcy, she closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she opened them again and lifted her right hand to his face.

* * *

**Well?**


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Sorry for the cliff hanger! I got a bit of writer's block and I've been really busy. So here's what happens next. Hope it lives up to your expectations :D**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_Slap!_

Darcy blinked in surprise. He really should have seen that coming. Well, he guessed he should be glad that she didn't deck him one where the sun don't shine. Little Willie was safe. For now. And he planned to keep it that way. If only his big mouth would cooperate.

"Ah. I deserved that, didn't I?"

"Deserved that? You more than deserved that you arrogant, conceited, _bastard_! I can't believe you said that about me! Jerk!" Her tears were falling in earnest now. Rivers were flowing out of her eyes. She stepped closer, put her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. She hadn't allowed herself to give in to tears since she graduated from grade school, and even then she tried not to cry in front of anyone. But Will was different. She wasn't embarrassed. And he was comforting.

Will's heart shattered as he watched the regal and poised 'Liz Bennet, Chairman', crumble and the fragile shell of a girl, take her place. It cut him to the core that he was the reason for her tears. Although he had to admit, that slap caused quite a big bruise on his ego. But for Becca, he would willingly go to hell and back.

After Becca had run out of tears and she had composed herself, the friends spent the afternoon catching up on what each had not informed the other over their emails. Will told Becca about running Pemberley, which he was surprised to learn that he neglected to tell her before, and Becca in turn informed him of why she had changed her name.

"Well, I didn't change my name, per say, but rather I'm known as R. Elizabeth. Rather than Rebecca E. I really don't want mother finding out that I'm already in control of the company. And Fanny Wilson does not need another camera following her everywhere. I don't just have my reputation to protect now. I can't let everyone in this company down just because of my mother and sisters' scandalous behaviour." She explained.

"But they'll find out one day, you know. Then they'll be like starving wolves, and you'll be the bit of meat they fight over and rip to shreds."

"I know," Becca sighed. "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, I guess. Oh, and could you not tell anyone about this? I mean, Jane knows, and now you do, but you're the only ones. I want to keep it that way. The more people that know, the more likely the paps will hear about it. Then, it'll be all over the news and Fanny will no doubt find out. _That_ is something that I wouldn't want to inflict on the poor world."

Will had to agree with her there. Normal Fanny Wilson was a force to be reckoned with. And angry Fanny Wilson was of another dimension altogether. He hoped to be on the other side of the Earth (with Becca, of course) on the day that she gets this news. _Maybe she'll do something so heinous that they'll finally be convinced to lock her up in Bedlam._

* * *

Both were extremely surprised to be interrupted by a knock at the door at 5:30. Jane poked her head in to remind them of the time. She was glad that they had worked out their problems. But she felt that it was her sisterly duty to at least reprimand him for his – admittedly – horrific behaviour.

"Darcy." She extended her hand to him after she closed the door behind her. She couldn't believe that she hadn't recognised him! Well, the lighting hadn't really helped. But still.

Darcy shook her hand tentatively. He had seen the look that now adorned her face on Becca's before, just when she was about the punch the lights out of their neighbour, George, for taking Georgie's teddy. _Dear Lord._ What had possessed him that night? He was nigh on trembling in his shoes.

Jane took a step closer to him and raised her hand. Darcy flinched. A look of confusion briefly flickered across her face. Why would he flinch away? _It's not like I'm going to slap him…_ _Wait_. She should have known that Becks was the kind of person who _would_ slap. Poor Will. Coming back to the present, she poked her index finger hard into Darcy's chest.

"If you _dare_ do that again, I swear on all that is holy and my pink fluffy slippers, I will personally see you six feet under." Jane – placid Jane, sweet Jane, _angelic _Jane – had delivered a threat. And she meant it. He nodded meekly in response. Darcy was in some deep shit. And he knew it.

Becky was looking on at this scene in amusement. It was not very often that someone would be able to rile Jane up. In fact, she could count the number of times that Jane had been so angry at someone on one hand, and this threat had to be her first. Unfortunately for Darcy, he was now officially the first, and only person on Jane's black list. She didn't know about him, but Becca would do anything to come off the black list and stay off. Otherwise, Jane might find herself charged with murder, and she didn't want to have to visit her favourite sister and best friend in a cell. To lose her two most trusted people in the world to such a circumstance would be unthinkable. No, it was to the benefit of everyone that Darcy come off Jane's black list and come off quick.

Darcy suddenly realised the time. He was having dinner with Charles and his sister (ugh) tonight. And he was late. A definite disadvantage if one was about to be subjected to dinner with Caroline Bingley. Words alone could not describe her. Suddenly, in a moment of utter brilliancy – if he did say so himself – he was struck with an absolutely marvellous idea.

"Well, it's almost dinner time now, and I don't know about you, but I'm rather hungry. And I ate something at lunch, unlike a young lady that I happen to know," Darcy gave a pointed look to Becky, who's stomach had been growling all afternoon thanks to the restaurant incident. "Seeing as Becca here missed lunch because of me, I would like to make it up to you. How about you both come with me to dinner? Charles is going to be there, and you can make the acquaintance of Caroline, his sister."

Jane's face lit up like a Christmas tree at the mention of dinner with Charles, but she demurred, saying that she didn't want to intrude. Becky, on the other hand had a very strong suspicion about Caroline Bingley, and judging from Darcy's face, her guess was right on target. She was being handed first class tickets to what looked to be an interesting show, and she'd be damned if she didn't take it.

Between Darcy and Becky, they managed to convince (and they didn't have to try too hard) Jane to attend dinner with them. After he had gotten their agreement, he called Charles, informing him of the change in plans to now include the sisters as well as alerting him to their late arrival. All the while, he was jumping up and down with glee underneath his mask of serenity, cheering at being able to avoid Caroline's excessive attentions. For now.

Becky took a couple of minutes to splash her face and redo her make-up to get rid of any evidence of her earlier tears. It would not do to go out looking like a cross between a bunny and Rudolph the red nosed reindeer. Finally, Darcy, Becky and Jane piled into Becky's Bentley, giving Mr McLean the directions. They made good time, considering the rush hour traffic, and only got there ten minutes late.

Unfortunately, this meant that the group had arrived just after Caroline and so they were greeted (well Darcy was greeted, Becky and Jane were ignored) by a blur of what can only be said to resemble a giant orange peacock. On drugs.

"William, dah-ling!" The orange thing practically screeched. Becky thought that her screech could probably match Fanny Wilson's. "How are you, my dear? Your day must have been ever so tedious! You had so many business meetings, did you not? And to think the last person had the audacity to keep you from your dinner! William, dah-ling, you must be starving! But that's quite okay. We'll remedy that in a second." Caroline paused for breath and seemed to finally notice the two other arrivals.

She gave them each a once over. Tailored designer suits adorned each of her "competition". Bah. Boring business people. But they were most likely wealthy. So she would be nice. For now.

She looked at Will from under her eyelashes.

"And who might your friends be, Mr Darcy?" she purred. Or at least tried to, completely oblivious to the hilarious picture she made, hanging off Darcy's rigid arm like a dishcloth. The look on Darcy's face made it clear that he would not have been any more disgusted than if she _were_ a dirty dish towel.

"Caroline, this is B-" Darcy was interrupted before he could blurt out her real name.

"Hi I'm Liz Bennet." Becky held out her hand, which Caroline only just deigned to shake. "This is my… ahem… this is Jane."

"Hello, Caroline, I'm happy to make your acquaintance." Jane said gently, also holding her hand out.

* * *

**A/N: What did you think?**


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hi everyone! Long time no update, I know. Sorry! I have been really busy these past couple of weeks. I will try not to let this happen again. I hope this next chapter lives up to your expectations!**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

"William, dah-ling. Would you mind passing me the salt?"

Will handed Caroline the salt shaker.

"Mmm this restaurant is simply divine! William, you have such good taste."

_Silence._

"How is Georgie nowadays? Has she grown much since the last time I saw her? Is she as tall as I am?"

"Yes, she has grown, quite a lot." Will started. "But she is only _nine_. It would be rather odd for a _nine year old _to be at your height."

"Oh, but that hardly matters. You are so tall. She must get her height from you."

William turned slightly and discreetly rolled his eyes.

"Pray, tell her that I said hi in your next letter."

_Silence_.

"How charming that you write actual letters to your sister, William. Pity no one does that anymore. _I _would _love_ for someone to write me a proper letter." She purred.

_More silence_.

Becky stifled a rather unladylike snort. She had to give it to the woman for trying. But for all her efforts, she certainly wasn't getting anywhere. The look on Darcy's face said it all, really. If Caroline had any brains at all, she would have figured out that he would prefer for her to shut up and possibly go to the other end of the Earth. However, she seemed to be sadly lacking in that department, so she let her tongue run wild and 'wit' flow long.

Finally getting bored of essentially talking to a wall, Caroline turned her attention to her next target. And the inquisition began. If Caroline had worked for Napoleon around 200 years ago, England would have been sunk for sure. Good thing she employed her interrogation skills strictly for gossip purposes only.

"So, Eliza." Becky cringed. _How in stinky socks' name did she get _Eliza_ from Liz?_ "What is it exactly that you do?"

"I work at Wilson and Co." Technically she wasn't lying. She was only withholding select information.

"Oh, Wilson and Co. What a fantastic business. Did you know that my father was friends with Mr Wilson? And I get on famously with Rebecca. Becks is just _such_ a darling. Did you know that she inherited everything when he died? Tragic circumstances, that. But she's too young to run the company yet."

Becky had to keep herself from falling out of her chair. The last time she checked, she had never met Caroline Bingley in her life. When did they become friends? _Maybe I hit my head and suffered from amnesia?_ Although she had to seriously question her former judgement for befriending such a _fine_ specimen. The part about their fathers doing business wasn't completely untrue. Wilson and Co. had in fact merged with Bingley Investment Group, and BIG was now an invaluable part of the Wilson and Co. empire. _If only Caroline knew…_

"So Eliza, where in the company do you fit in?" Caroline continued.

"I, um…" _Think, Becky think! _"I work very closely with Jane."

Caroline knew that Jane was an assistant to one of the higher-ups of Wilson and Co. so since Eliza worked closely with Jane, she deduced that she must be the junior assistant or something equally… common. She sneered – what she thought was – discretely. How could William, the President of Pemberley, one of the largest companies in the world – only just surpassed by Wilson and Co, she reluctantly admitted, but extremely large all the same – _lower_ himself to associate with such _common_ people? How could his sensibilities cope?

Unknown to Caroline, Will was actually coping quite well. Better than he would have anyway had he come to dinner by himself. Although he felt a little guilty for being rather glad that Caroline had focussed her attention on Becca rather than himself. But it was only a very little, compared to his relief at finally being left alone. Maybe he could make it through the remainder of this dessert course without resorting to any drastic actions. He didn't particularly fancy a lifetime in jail for just a moment – okay, maybe a bit… well, maybe a lot, longer than a moment – of satisfaction. No matter how tempting. So he sat, quietly working away at his crème brulee, hoping to be ignored for a while yet. _Maybe if she could suddenly swallow that cherry pip down the wrong way…_

"Well, William's sister, Georgiana is very accomplished, is she not, William, dear?" Caroline turned to Will again, having sufficiently determined the inferiority of the two strays that had no doubt coerced her William into bring them here. After all, a man of his station would not willingly suffer the degradation of such substandard company.

_Fudge-cakes. I got my hopes up too soon. What did I miss?_ William froze in his seat, his spoon poised half way between his desert and his mouth. While he had been imagining the many ways to bring about Caroline's demise – of course, he would never put them into action, but imagining them in his head did no harm – he had missed whatever Caroline had been talking about. Now he was caught.

Becky watched his reaction with barely concealed amusement. Her shoulders shook a little as she tried to supress her laughter at Will's deer-in-the-headlights expression. He looked petrified!

Seeing Becky's silent laughter out of the corner of his eye, he huffed a little and tried to think up some form of revenge while trying to find an answer to Caroline's question and at the same time searching for the right opportunity to eat his spoonful of dessert. He decided that he should eat his bite of crème brulee first, just to put off responding to Caroline for a little longer.

Will swallowed. "Um…"

Caroline didn't wait any longer for his reply before she continued to speak. She looked around at both Jane and Becky pointedly.

"Dear Georgie is ever so accomplished, even at such a young age! She can already speak fluent French, as well as play the piano so brilliantly. I wager I do not know anyone quite so talented at the piano than Georgie. She is quite a prodigy!"

Will merely shrugged, glad that he didn't have to actually make a response now.

"I do hope that you will hire a tutor for her! We don't want all that talent to go to waste, now do we, William darling? She will definitely be able to go to Julliard at least when she grows up a bit."

At her last declaration, Will stared at Caroline in amazement. The audacity of the woman! How dare she presume to tell him what to do! How dare she presume that she had the right to tell him how to educate his own sister! Who in the blazes did she think she was?! Will fumed silently, wishing more than anything at that moment to be able to throw what was left of his dessert into her face. The dessert could only provide an improvement of her looks.

Sensing the tension rising, Charles, thankfully, stepped in, and the conversation and behaviour remained civil. For now.

* * *

After another hour in the company of Miss High-and-Mighty, they had finally been able to make their escape. Caroline had claimed fatigue and looking at Darcy, said that she needed to go home to get some beauty sleep. Becky had never seen someone so obviously hinting for an offer of a ride home. But Will being Will, he either ignored her or didn't notice. He only fanned the flames of Caroline's irritation by inviting himself to share Becky's Bentley because his car was still at the Wilson and Co. building, while Charles offered to drive Jane home. And so it was that Miss Caroline Bingley found herself in the awkward position of standing alone on the sidewalk as the others paired off and put her to the back of their minds.

"Gah! I hate that woman." Will ground out as soon as they were safely ensconced in the Bentley.

Becky wisely resisted the urge to laugh at his rather childlike outburst. Caroline had been in rare form that night, if Will's countenance and now awful mood was anything to judge by. She wondered how Will found the patience to put up with her. If she had been the one that Caroline had badgered all night, then heads – or one head in particular – would have rolled. _Charlie must be some friend, to be able induce Will to put up with a sister like that!_ Again, for the thousandth time that night, she pondered how on Earth Charles and Caroline belonged to the same family. _Maybe he's adopted_.

* * *

**A/N: Leave your thoughts please!**


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